Redesign
by Lolliscythe
Summary: Xaldin and Demyx are given a mission to 'observe' Twilight Town. Collaboration, eventual XalDem, rewrite. Mature language and character bashing at some points.


** Track One:** Paint It Black

Why did he have to do this? Oh, yeah, because Xemnas told him to… Being Number Three was maddening at times. His eyes briefly glanced down at his unlikely partner, Demyx. The blond was playing his sitar, as usual. The lancer sighed. That was probably the only thing that kid knew how to do… Xemnas was daft to partner **them** up on this mission. Truthfully, Xaldin could control himself more than others around the blond, but that was partially due to him never really spending that much time with the teen. He rarely saw the youth, thankfully, and now, it seemed that someone had plotted them against each other. How cliché… The cosmos were plotting against him. Just terrific.  
Striding beside Number Three, Demyx strummed his fingers across the strings of his sitar. He was grinning broadly as the instrument belted out a stanza of perfectly tuned chords, allowing himself to hum lightly along with them. "So…," he began as he dismissed the instrument in a flurry of shadow and bubbles, "where does the ol' Superior want us to go this time?"  
"Don't try to act mature," Xaldin coolly said. "You fail at it... The Superior gave us a mission to scout out Twilight Town and watch its development. I've told you this about five times, Nine..."  
"_Soooooreeey,_ Mr. Over-Domineering!" Demyx frowned and shrugged his shoulders defensively. "No need to get so grouchy! Y'know, I think that tight bun o' braid on the back of your head cuts off the circulation to your brain... Puts you in a foul mood or somethin'..." He lifted his hand distractedly. A swirling portal of black shadows emerged out of nowhere. "Superiors first" he said as he gestured with an air of mock respect.  
Xaldin rolled his eyes. The kid was just asking for Xaldin to kill him. Fortunately for the teen, Xaldin wasn't like Saїx. He was more adept at being stoic. He waved a hand at the youth and stepped inside the portal. _I'll have to teach Nine his place. He has a bit of a lip on him,_ he noted to himself.  
Stepping in after Xaldin, the musician soon found himself blinking in the soft sunlight of Twilight Town. It was about as different as you could get from The World That Never Was. It was...cheerful! "Not so bad here…," Demyx commented, grinned as he eyed the quaint buildings, and breathed in the salty air. There must be a beach somewhere...  
Xaldin frowned down at Demyx. They had appeared in the middle of the marketplace. Specifically, they were behind the slope heading toward the deeper part of the town. It was rather dull, if you asked the lancer. He had the compulsive urge to draw his hood over his face. He slid lower so that he wasn't able to be seen. Of course, if someone came by, he wouldn't be able to stop that. They needed new clothes. What exactly would they have here? Probably nothing suitable... Whatever. If he could deal with that blond, he could handle anything.  
"Scope out the scenery later," Xaldin drawled. "We need to move."  
"Right..." Demyx tugged his own hood over his head to obscure his face. "... Where are we gonna move to?"  
"We need to secure a hotel or find a place to stay," Xaldin said. "We should either do that or find the nearest clothing store. We can't go around in our coats for too long. I assume that you brought munny, correct?"  
"Eh... Not much," Nine muttered dubiously. He reached into a pocket of his cloak and withdrew the contents. "I've got, uhh... A stick of gum... A sitar pick... What looks to be a button that got warped in the dryer... And, oh!" He held up a small pouch. "300 munny!"  
"You're cursed," Xaldin muttered. He searched his own pockets. He found two bottles of sake, about 8000 munny, and a hair band. It was probably from Xigbar... The damn thing had silver hairs. He sighed and slid the items back into his pockets.  
"Am not!" the blond retorted indignantly. "I've got _loads_ more where this came from! More than that...pitiful 8000 munny you have!"  
"Then why didn't you prepare yourself, child?" Xaldin quirked an eyebrow.  
"Well... It's 'cuz... I was packing so quickly and... Xemnas was all..." He frowned. "I forgot, alright! Happy?" He pouted slightly and brooded.  
Xaldin shrugged. "It's not my problem," he said. "You can go back for it later if you want. I personally want to get this over with."  
"Fine... I'll get something second-hand then…," Demyx mumbled. He pocketed his munny and glanced around at the shops. "S'pose that would be it," he said as he pointed to a shop with a large sign, indicating it sold clothing.  
"Let's see what horrors these fools call 'fashion...,'" Xaldin said. His arms were folded back behind him in their usual stance. "One of us shall have to find a sort of hotel first... We can't exactly carry our bags into a store." He gestured toward his belongings draped over his shoulder. He'd crammed the basic necessities into that garbage bag. He had all the pants and boots he needed, just no shirts.  
"So we're gonna split up, then?" Demyx asked as he eyed their belongings. "I mean, I can get a hotel room just fine, but... I'm just a bit nervous about getting lost here."  
Xaldin sighed. "Fine, boy," he mumbled. "How about we both go to get a hotel, then?"  
"Er... Yeah, sure." He grabbed his bags. "Where's the nearest one, y'think?"  
"I have no idea...," Xaldin replied. "We're going to have to either wander around like fools or find a local..."  
"We could ask the person in the clothes shop for directions?" the nocturne suggested helpfully. "I could watch the stuff."  
Xaldin sighed. "Yes, we could do that... I'd rather **I** watch the stuff, though...," he said.  
"Oh Don't trust me?" Demyx crossed his arms loosely behind him and rocked a bit on his feet in a playfully accusatory fashion. "I see how it is..."  
"No, I don't," Xaldin said. "You're the type who wouldn't be able to hold his ground. I have profound doubt in any of your abilities beyond that sitar of yours."  
Demyx faltered in his cocky stance. "Er..." He had only half-expected Three to _actually_ say that. "What? Are you saying I can't fight? 'Cuz, I can, you know! Totally! Water can be dangerous! That's why people fear floods!"  
"We're wasting time, Nine," Xaldin grumbled. "Are we going or what?" He didn't care for arguing, especially with a person whom he considered a child.  
"Fine... Fine!" the musician said hastily. "So, you stick with the bags, I'll get the directions! No sweat!" He gave Xaldin a wide, confident grin. "You're way too uptight! Let loose for once!"  
"I'd rather be writing right now...," Xaldin mumbled. "Perhaps I'll 'let loose' another time... Not now. You need some focus."  
"Focus? Pffft! I can focus just fine!" He began striding for the clothing shop. "You have any _idea_ how much focus it takes to properly tune a sitar?"  
"I'd rather not...," Xaldin drawled. He followed after the youth, adjusting the black bag over his shoulder. "That sitar means nothing. If you cannot focus during battle or access the situation as quickly as possible, you'll be dead."  
Demyx frowned. "I can fight just fine if I wanted to…," he muttered. "Jeez! Just 'cuz I'm younger..."  
"Younger and naive," Xaldin added. He glanced over at Demyx. "We'll discuss this later... I loathe wasting time." He loathed talking in general, actually. He'd rather use his pawns to do the talking. He was manipulative by default. People were stupid and needed someone to control them.

Demyx frowned and didn't say anything more until after they had gotten into the hotel and paid for a room. It was a fairly comfortable two-room with one bath set up with a kitchenette and a pair of beds in the bedroom. "Not so bad of a place to stay in for a mission," he commented as he set his belongings down by the couch. "...How long are we staying here, anyway?"  
"We'll probably be here for about six months at the most," Xaldin replied. He made his way to the bedroom. He wanted to get everything ready. He also didn't want to be in the same room when he told Nine that...  
"Six... Months? **SIX MONTHS?!**" The nocturne stumbled slightly and gripped the arm of the couch to steady himself. "Six months... With _you?!_" He blinked and shook his head. _This has to be a bad dream... Wake up!_  
"I'd rather spend it with someone else as well, Nine," Xaldin called out so that the musician would be able to hear him. He was sitting on the bed he'd claimed as his own and was taking off his boots.  
"This is gonna suck…," Demyx muttered to himself, holding his head. "Six months is like... Half a year!"  
Xaldin sighed. He'd reacted somewhat the same way when the Superior had told him. He'd kept it bottled up. If you couldn't handle working with other people, then you were doomed. His Other had endured somewhat of the same experience; working with people he didn't want to be working with. It was a fact of life. Xaldin delved for a book from inside the bag and walked back to the living room. He sat down beside Demyx and unearthed his glasses from a coat pocket. The book he held was entitled 'Pet Sematary.'  
Resting on the arm of the couch, Demyx partially had his back turned towards Three. "What do we have to do here that's gonna take _six_ months?" he asked, then yielded a heavy sigh.  
"Partially, we have to keep an eye on Roxas," Xaldin said. He slid his glasses over his nose and opened to the page marked in his book.  
"Wait... He's here?" Nine blinked and tilted his head. "I knew that he was somewhere close to The World That Never Was, but, wow... This is practically a hop, skip, and a jump away from the Castle! Why doesn't Xemnas just grab 'im and go?"  
"Xemnas can't do that," Xaldin said. "He was chosen to do this for a reason, as we were chosen to survey him. No one can interfere with what is to happen to this world. That's another reason why we're here; to prevent anyone from stopping the Keyblade Master from awakening."  
"Oh... I never looked at it that way, I guess." He bit his lip and stared at the wall in thought. "But... The Keyblade Master is hidden, isn't he? So, it would be hard for anybody to be able to find him and dump a bucket of cold water over his head or something, right?"  
Xaldin rolled his eyes. "I didn't mean 'awakening' literally, Nine," he drawled. "First, the Keyblade Master must attain back his memories...through Roxas. Roxas must become aware. I didn't figure that you'd take the phrase so literally..."  
Demyx crossed his arms. "It was how you phrased it...!" he said defensively. "I got confused..."  
Xaldin shrugged. "Ah, youth...," he mumbled. "We should make connections tomorrow and learn where everything is, that way you can go around on your own without getting lost. I'm not going to follow you around everywhere you go."  
"Yes, and it would also appear less suspicious..." He straightened up, standing up off of the arm of the couch. "We should still go and get clothes from the store before it gets dark and it closes for the night."  
Xaldin nodded. "I'd rather not go," he said. "If I give you 3000 munny, can I trust you with it?" Sapphire glanced up at the blond. "You can pay me back with all that munny you bragged about earlier."  
Putting a confident grin on his face as he looked back at Xaldin, Demyx nodded. "Of course you can! I'm not gonna sneak off and by stuff with it! What kind of clothes do you like?"  
"I prefer anything that's black," Xaldin said. "That's basically it... Plain black." He closed his book, palmed the 3000 munny, and held it out to Demyx.  
"Gee, you really deviate…," Demyx muttered and pocketed the munny. "I'll get at least a week's worth of clothes, if I can," he added, stepping towards the door.  
"Just get me some shirts," Xaldin added. He had his book open again. "I have everything else I need."  
"Ok…," Demyx said and made a mental note as he stepped out the door. "I'll be back in a few."

It had taken Demyx a while to decide on what kind of outfit he should best choose (he got excitable when he actually had a choice, as opposed to the black cloaks the comprised of the Organization's uniform), and by the time he had made his way back to the hotel room, it was well past dark outside.  
"'Lucy I'm hooome!'" Demyx called out as he pushed the door open with his back. "What do ya think?" he asked after setting down the bags he was carrying.  
Demyx stood up straight and held his arms out. He had on a pair of acid-wash over-alls with a single strap left undone. Under that was a black and blue sweater with alternating horizontal stripes. Knee-high, black and white-striped stockings covered his legs, and he had on a pair of black converse sneakers that looked like they had seen better days. A navy-blue, woolen fedora sat on top of the mullet that made up his hair.  
"Kind of eclectic, don't ya think?"  
Xaldin glanced up at the teen for a mere moment before returning to his book. "Rather dull and overdone," he drawled. "I don't care..."  
IX's grin flickered briefly, but he quickly picked himself back up. "Well, _I_ like it! Took me forever to find everything! Your stuff is in the bags, by the way...," he added before moving to drag his luggage into the bedroom to unpack.  
"Hnn...," Xaldin grunted. He closed his book and walked over to examine his bags. The kid had done well. No colors, but no designs, either. Well, one shirt had a skull print, but that was it. It was better than nothing. In fact, it was exactly what he'd wanted. It was a miracle that the kid could actually do something right for a change... Xaldin smiled softly and shook his head. He pocketed his glasses and carried his bag to the bedroom to sort these clothes with his others.  
"So...?" the musician asked expectantly as he stored away a few pairs of jeans. "Did I do good with your 3000 munny?" He folded a Rolling Stones t-shirt before tucking it into a drawer.  
"Yes, you did well," Xaldin said. "I'm rather surprised..." The smile was fake, as were his emotions.  
Grinning appreciatively, Demyx put the last of his clothes away before sitting on his bed and taking one of the bags of chips he had packed into his bag before he'd left the Castle That Never Was. "I didn't pack much food," he noted, taking off his hat after tossing a few chips into his mouth. "I've got some chips and some ramen... Just some snacks, but yea..."  
"That's fine," Xaldin said. "Just for further reference, I'm not a morning person." He sat down on his bed and began placing his shirts into his drawer. "If you even think of approaching me before noon, you have a death wish. Understood?"  
"Yes, sir...," Demyx said, tossing his eyes slightly. "But I don't really think you have to worry about that. I wouldn't come near you with a six-foot pole... But, since we're on the topic of conditions, whenever I'm practicing my sitar, I don't usually like to be interrupted..." He pushed the bag of chips aside before summoning said instrument to his hands.  
"Same when I'm writing," Xaldin said.  
Xaldin noted that his book was still on the couch. He'd go back for it later. He sorted through his bag and found his notebook and lead pencil. He pulled his glasses from his pocket, slid them over his nose, and began writing without so much as a glance over at Demyx.  
Merely nodding, the blond swept his fingers across the strings of the sitar, testing out the notes for a moment, before plucking out a few improvised notes, which changed smoothly into The Rolling Stones's 'Paint It Black'.  
Xaldin scowled as he poured over his notebook. Nothing much was written. It was mostly poetry. He didn't have the patience to write a story, anyhow. As he had a rhythmic memory, what he began writing had a similar beat to what Demyx was playing. It was purely unintentional, of course.  
Continuing to pluck out the individual notes of the song, Demyx began to sing along as he sat with his legs crossed, campfire-style on the mattress. "I see a red door and I want it painted black, no colors anymore I want them to turn black... I see the girls walk by dressed in their summer clothes, I have to turn my head until my darkness goes!"  
Xaldin's mechanical pencil stopped abruptly in mid-verse. He growled softly, barely audible, and began leafing through his bag once more. He found what he was looking for quite easily. However... Those lyrics actually did represent how he felt about colors, but he didn't like the song. He preferred his metal. He slid the earpieces into his ears and turned it up on a specific song, Metalwrath. He assumed that he shared nothing in common with the teen. He rarely held anything in common with anyone. The sake bottles were abandoned in his coat pockets. He crossed his legs beneath him, slid his coat off his shoulders, and loomed down over his notebook. His lead pencil was moving at a much faster rhythm now, as the song had a faster beat. If the rest of their six months together were like this, Xaldin would be okay with that. No talking. No acknowledging the other's presence. That's how he liked it.  
Glancing up at the dragoon, a small grin passed across Demyx's face before he ventured to play the song louder, continuing to watch Xaldin for his reaction. "I see a line of cars and they're all painted black! With flowers and my love both never to come back! I see people turn their heads and quickly look away, like a new born baby it just happens every day! I look inside myself and see my heart is black... I see my red door and I want it painted black! Maybe then I'll fade away, and not have to face the facts! It's not easy facing up when your whole world is black..."  
Xaldin's left hand twitched. His eyes snapped up at the teen and narrowed in mild annoyance. He began mumbling the song that was currently playing and turned up the volume even more. "_Wrath, hate, pain and death. The code we live by, it's in our souls. Metal is the way. We fight the world with glowing metal. Now the falses will pay…_"  
Grinning, Demyx took up the proposed challenge. "No more will my green sea go turn a deeper blue! I could not foresee this thing happening to you, if I look hard enough into the setting sun! My love will laugh with me before the morning comes! I wanna see your face painted black, black as night, don't wanna see the sun flying high in the sky! I wanna see it painted, painted, painted, painted black!"  
Sapphire eyes once again peered over at Demyx through the glasses. They were growing a purplish color, deepening with his untapped anger. "_Our fight has just begun. We're sent from hall of gold, messengers of death. We're coming after you, you can't escape us. We'll take away your breath See us ride for vengeance, friends of the suncross, we are born of steel._"  
"..." Nine struck out a few more rapid chords before sitting back and letting his sitar dissipate to shadow, still grinning broadly.  
"If I didn't have more control, I'd snap your neck...," Xaldin mumbled, his raspy tones seemingly darker than usual. Violet burned holes into the blond.  
"Oh, come on, Xaldin!" Demyx insisted, his tone over-confident, but it flickered when that stare bore into him. "It was just a bit of fun! Not like music ever hurt anybody!"  
"You see, boy, I have a rhythmic memory, and I can only write to certain things..." Xaldin's tone was too calm, not like when he was normally talking. It had a bit of an edge, per-say.  
Demyx's nervous smile just widened. Gods, Xaldin could be fuckin' creepy sometimes! "Ok, ok! Then you write your screechy music…," he muttered, crossing his arms. He averted his gaze. Those eyes... They sent an uncomfortable chill down the sitarist's spine.  
"Forget it...," Xaldin said. "The poem's fucked up, anyway. I'll just take a shower and leave you alone." He closed his notebook, slid his glasses off his nose, and began looking through his bag yet again. He pulled out a pair of large, silk pajama bottoms and a large skull-print shirt. He gave Demyx the 'stare' for a few more seconds before heading to the bathroom. He needed a cold shower to soothe his nerves.  
"..." Eyeing the lancer for a few more moments before he left the room, Demyx gave a heavy sigh of relief. "Jeez..." he muttered. _He doesn't even try, and he's intimidating!_ Giving another sigh, he shoved his head under a pillow.

Demyx hadn't even realized he had fallen asleep with his head under the pillow, until his eyes opened the next morning. Blinking slightly in confusion as he sat up, his still half-asleep mind tried to make sense of the room. This wasn't the Castle... Then he spotted Xaldin asleep on the opposite bed. _Oh, yea…_ Slipping off the mattress, he made for the door with the intention of moving as quietly as he could, before an idea came to him. Smirking, he tip toed closer to Three and leaned in close to his head, drawing in a deep breath. "WAKE UUUUPPPPP!!!"  
Violet-sapphire orbs snapped open and he immediately jumped up into an upright position, in the process slamming his skull against Demyx's. His eyes burned violet as he clutched his head with one hand. "Nine, do you want me to kill you?" It wasn't difficult for him to sound scary, even when sleepy.  
Demyx yelped as pain shot through his head when their skulls cracked together, and another string of pain as Xaldin pulled at his hair with a ravenous expression in his eyes. Insane...eyes... Fuck. Was it possible for violet to physically burn through your non-existent soul? That's how it felt like! He felt an awful ache at the pit of his stomach and an awful throbbing where Xaldin was pulling. The guy seriously couldn't take a joke!  
"Do you?" Xaldin deadpanned. His fingernails dug as he pulled at Demyx's mullet of doom. The 'stare' seemed to be even worse with the dark bags under his eyes.  
"N--No!" Demyx squeaked out, clawing at the lancer's hand that was holding tightly onto his hair. If not the pain, he wanted to get away from Xaldin and away from the damnable stare! "Let go of me!" he begged, his voice taking on more of a whining tone than he would have liked.  
Xaldin growled, released Demyx, and pushed the youth away from him. A part of him enjoyed seeing the teen's weakness, another wanted some damn Advil for his headache. The boy's skull was harder than a motherfucking rock. He lowered back onto his bed, rolled away from Demyx, and mumbled curses to himself.  
Sitting down on the floor, the nocturne took a moment to rub the pain in his head away, staring daggers at Xaldin's back. "Asshole... That fucking _hurt!_" he muttered to himself.  
"I told you...to not wake me up before noon...," Xaldin mumbled. He slid the covers over his head. His eyes ached.  
"You can't take a joke…," Demyx huffed, standing up with a hand still on his head. "Fine... I'll leave you alone," he said, promptly leaving the room, a scowl still set firmly on his face.  
If Xaldin actually had a conscience, he might've felt guilty. Instead, he crawled out of his bed for the pure fact that once he woke up, he couldn't go back to sleep. He shuffled outside the bedroom and slid down the door. "Ramen...," he mumbled. "Where did you leave the ramen, Nine?"  
"It's in my bag somewhere…," Demyx said offhandedly from the couch, not looking back at Xaldin. _Where's the clicker...?_  
"And where might that be...?" Now he was just sounding creepy, like a zombie.  
"Try the room you just came out of…," Demyx continued, sounding only half-interested in the conversation as he continued to search the cushions of the couch. He glanced at Xaldin out of the corners of his eyes. "What the hell is that creepy stare for?"  
"It's my I-haven't-slept-enough-so-I-blame-you stare...," Xaldin rumbled. He was sitting cross-legged against the door, cradling his head in his hands. He was too tired to move, but in too much pain to not move.  
"Well, it's creepy!" He turned his full attentions back on the couch cushions. _AHA!_ "If you're so tired, then why don't you go back to sleep?" he suggested as he faced the TV, flicking through the channels.  
"Once someone wakes me up, I can't go back to sleep...," Xaldin said. "Don't you have any sort of headache?"  
"I do..." he admitted. "But I'm not whining about it." He glanced back at Xaldin. "I thought you were getting ramen..."  
"I was, but I'm still deciding whether I want to or not...," Xaldin said.  
"Fine, then. Decide without bothering me…," Demyx replied, still changing the channels. There was nothing on! This mission was going to be a drag, he could tell... Of all the members of the Organization he would have least liked to be stuck with for six months, it would be Xaldin.  
"Fuck you...," Xaldin mumbled. He struggled to stand and walked over to the couch. Without looking at Demyx, he claimed his book and shuffled back to the bedroom.  
"...I'll ignore that comment," the youth mumbled, feeling the bridge of his nose heat up. 


End file.
